


Ode to Joy

by Karasuno Volleygays (ToBeOrNotToBeAGryffindor)



Series: Valentine's Kisses 2019 [5]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, Moody Tobes, New Year's Celebrations, Reconciliation, Third Years
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-05
Updated: 2019-01-05
Packaged: 2019-10-05 01:47:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17315768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToBeOrNotToBeAGryffindor/pseuds/Karasuno%20Volleygays
Summary: Kageyama starts his New Year's Day alone but ends it with hope and a new outlook.





	Ode to Joy

A brilliant splash of light coats the landscape as the first sunrise of the year graces the city of Sendai. All over, families are crowded in areas with a good view to watch the dawn of a new year, a new start. Its rays will wash away the old and usher in the new.

And Kageyama Tobio is perched atop a jungle gym in a park near his house, watching the sight all by himself.

It’s not a new thing. His father is away on business in Europe and his mother, who is also his father’s business partner, is with him. Kageyama had been offered a chance to accompany them, but being surrounded by people he doesn’t know speaking languages he doesn’t understand holds no appeal, no matter how interesting the tourist attractions are. He would just be alone in a hotel room all day anyway.

“The Europeans don’t see New Year’s Day the way we do,” his mother had explained while packing. “They take one day off and go back to work the next. Your father and I have to make this deal, Tobio. You understand, right?”

He does. His parents’ business allows them to live in an above average house in an above average neighborhood, pays for Kageyama’s stuff for school and for volleyball, leaves plenty to pin to the refrigerator to order takeout when nobody is home to greet him after school. It’s been that way for as long as he can remember.

When the sun finally drags itself fully over the horizon, Kageyama climbs down from his perch to find what his new year has in store for him. Its first fortune is a trip to the shrine by himself. At least there’s a chance something else might change for the better.

The crush of visitors to the temple near his house is already massive. Food carts are crowded and the lines for prayers snake through the flood of people with no discernible end. Already irritated that he had dallied so long, Kageyama finds the shortest line to stand in, which is for omikuji. Food can wait, and the temple isn’t going anywhere. The fortunes frequently sell out, however.

Finally, his turn comes and Kageyama shakes the canister with the numbered sticks. “Thirty-seven,” he reads aloud from the one he finally draws. He takes the paper and moves to the least populated spot he can find and slowly unfolds it.

末凶: _Future Curse._

He should’ve just gone for the food instead.

Resisting the urge to crumple up the fortune and launch it into the nearest waste receptacle, Kageyama shoves it in his pocket along with his hands and treads back into the swarm.

While milling around waiting for his turn at a mochi soup booth, something blunt plows its way into his back. Taking a deep breath to calm his frazzled nerves, Kageyama whips around to tell whatever small child had barreled into him to watch where they’re going. The admonishment dies in his throat, however, when he sees the blushing owner of an errant elbow and a plastic package that looks more mangled than opened.

The owner himself, however, is achingly familiar. “Kindaichi,” he mumbles.

Kindaichi may not be at the top of the list of people who never want to see him again, but he has to be in the top five. Not that Kageyama blames him. It might have been three years since he alienated the person he cared about the most in the world, but Kageyama hasn’t forgiven himself for what he did. He could hardly expect that person to pardon him for it.

He certainly doesn’t expect a nervous laugh and a wave. “Uh, Happy New Year, Kageyama.”

“Yeah,” Kageyama says blankly, staring at Kindaichi’s uncharacteristically non-hostile attitude toward him. Kindaichi’s cheeks redden and he looks away, and Kageyama’s gaze drifts down to the package in Kindaichi’s hands. He plucks it from Kindaichi’s grasp and tears it open before handing it back to its owner. With an awkward salute, he turns back to his place in line before Kindaichi remembers to hate him again.

The hand that lands on his shoulder gives him yet another surprise for the day. When he looks over his shoulder at Kindaichi, Kindaichi is looking anywhere but at him. “Hey, uh, I don’t suppose you have a minute to talk, do you?”

Shrugging because he truly does have a plethora of minutes with no one waiting for him at home, Kageyama follows Kindaichi through the crowd until they reach a clump of trees on the other side of the playground where Kageyama had watched the sunrise. There are a few kids playing on the playground equipment and just as many parents watching, but nobody else has traversed the vast stretch of the overgrown soccer field to where they are.

A little confused and very curious, Kageyama quirks a brow at Kindaichi, whose face reddens yet again. Scratching at the nape of his neck, Kindaichi offers him an awkward almost-smile. “I’m not really sure how to start.”

“Are you mad?” Kindaichi shakes his head. “Are you sad?” Negative again. “Are you happy?” This receives a noncommittal shrug. “Then I don’t know.”

Kageyama’s words coax a chuckle out of Kindaichi. “I actually kind of miss how forthright you are. Not when you’re being a blunt dickhead, just when you say what you mean no matter how weird it sounds.”

Frowning, Kageyama’s brows knit in thought. “I don’t know how to take that.”

“Then take it as this.” Kindaichi heaves a sigh and squares his shoulders. “We’re third years now. In a few months, it’s very possible we’ll never see each other again.”

“Yes . . .” Kageyama stares at Kindaichi, waiting for the part where his old teammate tells him how happy he is for that day to come.

He definitely does not expect Kindaichi to crush him in a bear hug and whisper in his ear, “I’m so sorry.”

Once Kindaichi relinquishes his hold and Kageyama can draw a full breath again, he asks, “Why are _you_ sorry? I was the jerk, not you.”

Kindaichi harrumphs. “As much as I wish that were true, it’s really not. You tried to apologize for the way you used to be and I threw it in your face, but that never changed the fact that you really were different despite me being a child about it.

“We used to be a team.” Kindaichi’s face flushes a vivid red. “We used to be a few other things, too. That might have ended in middle school, but I’d rather not go the rest of my life regretting not telling you all of this.”

Jaw dribbling open, Kageyama gapes at Kindaichi, whose gaze darts back and forth between him and nowhere in particular.

Kindaichi is right; they had been something different, something more than teammates in their time at Kitagawa Daiichi. They were each other’s first sleepover, each other’s first kiss, each other’s first awkward fumble.

In the years since the rift between them diverged their paths, Kageyama has never come close to wanting something like that with anyone else. They are things he associates with Kindaichi, and a simpler time when neither of them knew what Kageyama’s drive could do to ruin things.

“You don’t have to be sorry, Kindaichi.” Kindaichi blinks in question, and Kageyama forges on with his own piece he doesn’t want to go another year, another minute without saying. “No matter what you said or did, you were always forgiven because I wouldn’t be able to do anything else.”

“Tobio,” Kindaichi breathes. “You can’t just say stuff like that.”

Lips pursed, Kageyama cocks his head to the side. “Why?”

Kindaichi slouches against the tree behind him and groans. “You’re really gonna make me say it out loud, aren’t you?” He takes in Kageyama’s blank stare and chortles. “Yeah, I thought so.”

Pushing away from the tree, Kindaichi drifts toward Kageyama, the squelch of soggy leaves underfoot dulled by Kageyama’s heart pounding loudly in his ears. Kindaichi’s shaking hand takes his, linking them together.

“I can’t believe how much I missed this.” Kindaichi holds their laced fingers over his heart. “The old you is gone, but I think I want to know the new you while I still have the chance.”

Slack-jawed and wide-eyed, Kageyama stares at Kindaichi, waiting for real life to snap back in his face. Only his imagination could conjure such an absurd circumstance. The Kindaichi Yuutarou who spent the past couple of years glaring him down from the other side of the net doesn’t want anything to do with Kageyama in any form.

He flinches when Kindaichi flicks him in the forehead. “Stop trying to figure out if I’m lying to you. I’m not that big of an asshat, you know. You deserve a chance to show me the kind of guy you really are.” Kindaichi swallows hard. “That is, uh, if you want to. You don’t have to, really, I just thought it would be nice to —”

“Yes.” Kageyama doesn’t even need the entire length of Kindaichi’s nervous rambling to make his decision. There will always be only one choice to make here. “I want to.”

Kindaichi’s smile is wide and bright and absolutely devastating to Kageyama’s ability to concentrate. He has to manage to not alienate Kindaichi before he gets his only chance to make this right, and he can’t afford to be distracted.

“You wanna go get some mochi soup?” Kindaichi guffaws. “I hate it so much I actually kind of like it.”

Kageyama guffaws. “I remember.”

They wander back over to the festivities shoulder to shoulder. Soup in hand, they find a quiet corner of the temple grounds and lean against the chain link fence. “Didn’t see your folks,” Kindaichi marks.

“They’re away.” Kageyama doesn’t elaborate. He isn’t sure he wants to tell Kindaichi he’s been home alone his entire New Year’s break.

He doesn’t have to.

Gaze stormy, Kindaichi growls, “I can’t believe they would do that. What if something happened to you? Who would take care of you? Who would you call for help?”

“I’m not a kid. I don’t need a babysitter.” And it is technically the truth. Kageyama has been spending stretches of three days or more home alone since he was thirteen. There have been a few months here and there that his parents are away more than they are at home. Somehow, he doesn’t think knowing this will make Kindaichi any happier. Instead, he offers a dull, “I’m fine.”

Kindaichi’s fingers tighten around his styrofoam soup cup. “Yeah, well I’m not fine with it.” He bites his lip and gives Kageyama a worried gaze. “I always wondered how you could change so much in just a couple of years in middle school. You went from a team player to a tyrant. Looking back, it makes a lot more sense.”

Kageyama averts his eyes, and Kindaichi’s scowl deepens. “That’s when that started, wasn’t it? Second year of middle school?” Kageyama hesitates to answer, but ultimately gives a soft nod.

“That’s it.” Kindaichi disposes of the remnants of his soup and grabs Kageyama’s arm. “You know what, my mom’s working for the next five days straight, so I’m flying solo, too. Either you’re coming home with me or I’m coming home with you. And don’t you _dare_ say no.”

Kageyama wants to object. He knows Kindaichi lives with just his mom, and Kindaichi coming home with him would leave her alone. Their apartment is very small, and Kageyama would just be in the way if he stays over there.

A small part of him, the part that remembers the feeling of Kindaichi not only sitting next to him but smiling, selfishly claws its way to the surface. It overrules his will to refuse.

So he doesn’t, and in under a minute, Kindaichi messages his mother that he’ll be spending the rest of the week with a friend. A friend. He still isn’t sure he’s allowed to assign a label like that to Kindaichi, who has disliked him more than liked him in the six years they’ve known each other.

But Kindaichi shows no signs of annoyance or distress once Kageyama agrees to hosting a surprise visitor. If Kageyama actually trusted his perception on such things, he would swear Kindaichi is in an even better mood than before.

While Kageyama finishes his soup, Kindaichi buys his fortune for the new year, beaming when he receives a Great Blessing. “Wow, I never get good ones. They usually either end up being something on the line of ‘same shit, different year’ or just plain bad.” He raises a brow. “Aren’t you going to get one?”

Thrusting his hand into his pocket, Kageyama drops his own mangled fortune from before into Kindaichi’s hands. Kindaichi reads it and frowns. “Yeah, we need to get rid of this one. I think you’ve had enough bad fortune.”

With that, Kindaichi ties Kageyama’s curse fortune to a nearby tree and beams. “See? Like it never happened.”

The line for the prayer shrine finally dwindles, so they take turns doing that as well. Kageyama itches to know what Kindaichi asks of the gods, but Kindaichi doesn’t offer or inquire so neither does Kageyama.

It’s afternoon by the time they finish their New Year’s outing. Their neighborhoods are not near each other, so they head to Kindaichi’s place, which is closer, to collect what he needs for a four day sleepover. Within the hour, an Aobajousai duffel bag drops to the genkan floor of the Kageyama household while its owner is carefully removing his slightly muddy shoes.

In their slippers, the two of them stand in the middle of the living room, and Kageyama doesn’t know what to do. He does the only thing he can think of and blandly offers Kindaichi a drink.

Kindaichi laughs and claps him on the shoulder. “Dude, you went from zero to awkward in a hurry. Chill out. Let’s just do whatever you do when you’re home.”

“Push-ups and laundry?”

Rolling his eyes, Kindaichi snorts. “I think you might actually be allergic to laziness. We’re going to fix that.”

For the next forty-five minutes, Kageyama is banished to the kitchen table watching anime on his tablet while Kindaichi cooks. Soon the entire house is filled with the savory scent of braising pork, and Kageyama finds himself abandoning videos in favor of peeking over Kindaichi’s shoulder to watch the magic happen.

“How do you know how to cook?” he finally asks.

Setting down his spatula, Kindaichi gives Kageyama a searching look. “You’re kidding, right?” At Kageyama’s blank stare, he takes a deep breath. “It’s a life skill. How do you expect to be able to live on your own down the road? Are you gonna live off of takeout? Are you gonna marry some girl you barely like because she can cook and do housework?”

Kageyama averts his eyes, irritated with himself that the thought has never crossed his mind. He knows every place in a five kilometer radius to get good curry, but not the first thing about how to make it. Kindaichi nudges him toward the range and hands him a spatula. “Well, you have to start somewhere.”

A bewildered Kageyama hangs on Kindaichi’s every word as he walks him through the steps of cooking the meat, cooking vegetables, and how to make flavors happen.

Soon, Kageyama is gripping a heaped plate of food he helped cook, and his belly growls loudly in anticipation. Kindaichi chuckles at the sound before herding Kageyama into the living room to eat at the kotatsu while watching the same movies television networks air every New Year’s Day. Today, it’s a Harry Potter marathon.

There’s more magic than just wizards that wraps itself around his evening. The winter sun is already setting on the day Kageyama had started out alone, but now he is doing dishes elbow to elbow with Kindaichi, who is off-key humming a piece from the Harry Potter score.

Kageyama can barely focus on the task with his close proximity to Kindaichi. It’s been years since either of them anything like _that_ has existed between them and he doubts Kindaichi will ever want to return to those times, but Kageyama’s heart hammers in his chest at the thought just the same.

The dishes finally finished, Kindaichi banishes them both back to the couch to watch tv until they pass out. His early start on the day, mixed with a belly full of food, collaborates to tug Kageyama’s eyelids down until he nods off.

Later he wakes, warm and content. Gentle fingers idly card through his hair, and he hums at the cloak of well-being it elicits.

At the sound, the fingers stop and Kageyama’s foggy brain clears just enough to remember where he is — who he’s with. And where he is at the moment is sprawled out on Kindaichi’s lap, a small puddle of drool on the leg of Kindaichi’s jeans.

The two of them spring apart. Kindaichi’s face is red, and Kageyama feels his own heat up, as well. “Sorry,” he mumbles, voice barely scraping past the lump in his throat.

Kindaichi nods robotically, gaping at Kageyama with wide eyes. “I didn’t realize I was doing it,” Kindaichi blurts, his words almost too quick for Kageyama to process. “You fell asleep and I started to get tired and I wasn’t thinking and it just —” He falls silent when the corner of Kageyama’s mouth twitches up into a crooked smile. “Hey, don’t laugh at me. I’m nervous.”

Kageyama’s smile falters. “Why?” He looks down at his hand splayed out on the couch cushion, watching it clench and unclench as he deals with his own anxiety over the situation. “If you want to go home, it’s okay.” It’s the last thing he wants, second only to rekindling Kindaichi’s anger toward him. He’s willing to spend the rest of the week alone if it keeps that from happening again.

“ _No_!” Kindaichi pushes off the couch and paces in front of the tv, which is still droning on with the last dregs of whichever Harry Potter movie they’ve made it to at this time of night. Kageyama observes a swath of emotions flitting across Kindaichi’s face while those fingers which had touched him so gently just moments before tug roughly at hair that hangs flat from Kindaichi’s head for the first time Kageyama can remember.

He doesn’t know how he did it, but Kageyama has managed to make Kindaichi grossly uncomfortable. Panic bubbles in his gut, irritating his full belly and making his throat convulse.

Kindaichi’s pacing grinds to a halt. “Are you okay?” He stalks around the kotatsu and sits on the edge of it, looking Kageyama over from head to toe. “I didn’t poison you, did I?”

Kageyama’s hand darts out and wraps around Kindaichi’s wrist. “I don’t know what you want from me.”

“What I w —” Kindaichi yanks his hand from Kageyama’s grip and claps his palms on Kageyama’s cheeks. “Listen to me very carefully, because we’re both idiots when it comes to understanding each other.” Kageyama nods as much as their relative positions allow. “Good. Now that we’ve got that straight, pay attention. I’m not mad at you for what happened in the past. I’m not mad at you for drooling on my pants.” Kindaichi harrumphs. “I’m not even mad because your hair is even softer than I remember and I actually noticed something that stupid.

“I don’t want anything from you except to get the chance to know you just the way you are.”

Hands creeping up to cover Kindaichi’s, which are still firmly framing Kageyama’s face. “What if you don’t like me the way I am now?”

Kindaichi’s breath falters when their fingers mesh together and drop into Kageyama’s lap. A smile teases on his lips. “I think it’s too late for that.”

Kageyama’s gaze drops abruptly to the floor, focusing on his slippers until he can’t see anything else. “I see,” he croaks.

“Oh, man, we are both morons.” Kindaichi tilts his head back and mutters under his breath. After a minute, he sighs and squeezes Kageyama’s hand. “I have to be dumb as hell, but I think I like you again already and I really kind of want to kiss you right now.”

The air bottled in Kageyama’s lungs pummels its way out of his throat, and he coughs until his eyes water. Immediately, Kindaichi moves to the spot next to him on the couch and rubs his back until the fit subsides. His windpipe raw and pained, Kageyama hangs his head between his legs until his breathing eases.

Kindaichi likes him, and Kageyama is a total tool for ruining the moment.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Kindaichi nudges Kageyama’s flushed face until Kindaichi’s pinched one is a scant few centimeters away. Concern twisting those achingly familiar features, Kageyama reaches up to smooth away the worry lines from Kindaichi’s forehead and lets his fingers drag slowly down Kindaichi’s cheek. They linger at the sharp line of Kindaichi’s jaw, and Kageyama’s belly clenches when Kindaichi leans into his touch.

Curious and lonely and sad and happy all at once, Kageyama lists forward and presses their lips together. When he pulls away, Kindaichi is wide eyed and grinning, and something old and dormant in Kageyama flares to life at the sight of Kindaichi’s joy.

“I missed you.” Kageyama rests his forehead against Kindaichi’s, and Kindaichi feathers a kiss to the tip of Kageyama’s nose. “I may have been pissed off at you, but I missed you so much.”

“Yeah.” The word is all Kageyama can manage. His entire skin is buzzing with a swarm of new and old feelings alike.

In their third year of middle school, Kageyama can’t attribute the rift between them outside of the volleyball court to anyone else but himself. He can never forget that growing ache as he watched Kindaichi drift away and have no idea how to make it stop.

But that was then and this is now, and Kindaichi is sitting in front of him not looking at anyone, anything else but him. No anger, no hurt, no disgust in his eyes.

The ache has eased for both of them, and all that’s left is something warm and full.

Kindaichi snares Kageyama’s lips for a searing kiss, and every thought he’s ever had evaporates in its wake.

Breathless and beaming, Kindaichi gasps, “It’s like it used to be, but also nothing like it at all. Does that make sense?”

Kageyama’s fingers trace his tingling lips, nodding as he waits for the curtain to fall and for Kindaichi to remember everything he hates about him. He reels when Kindaichi gives him a playful punch in the shoulder. “Stop thinking so much.”

“I keep waiting to realize I’m still asleep,” Kageyama murmurs. “I don’t want to wake up.”

Kindaichi swipes his tongue across his bottom lip and swallows hard. “Oh, man, I am doomed.” Something Kageyama can’t mistake as anything other than a giggle peals out of Kindaichi’s mouth. “You saying cute stuff like that’s gonna end me.”

“Then I won’t stop.” Kageyama can’t believe the things coming out of his mouth. His entire being is high on a rush of well-being, nurtured by the way Kindaichi runs his fingers through his hair when he laughs, the way he blushes when he smiles, the way he hums in pleasure at the smell of good food.

He stands and tugs Kindaichi along with him, guiding both of them up the stairs. When they arrive at Kageyama's bedroom door, Kindaichi’s jaw drops. “I, uh, does that mean you want to —” Kageyama shakes his head, and Kindaichi sighs heavily. “Still got that futon stuffed in your closet?”

“No.”

“Maybe I can just crash on the couch, then?”

“No.”  

“Then what do you —”

Kageyama takes the hem of Kindaichi’s t-shirt and slowly pulls it over his head. Next, his jeans drop to the floor, and Kageyama’s own clothes fall away in kind. With nothing but underwear and a scant few centimeters between them, Kageyama collects what he’s craved since his nap on the couch, since he lost it the first time:

Touch.

He wraps his arms around Kindaichi’s waist and buries his face in the slope of his shoulder, and Kindaichi embraces him in kind. They stand there in the middle of Kageyama’s bedroom, quiet while years of loney ache are cast out.

They settle into bed, Kageyama’s back flush with Kindaichi’s chest and an arm cast over his hip. Kindaichi dozes off quickly, Kageyama notices from the slow, even wheeze behind him. But he stays awake far into the night, reviewing the events of the day.

Kindaichi really had managed to banish his bad fortune. Not only with the sensation of skin against familiar skin, but with newfound patience and understanding, with a refusal to be misunderstood, with a heart that has enough room in it for a renewed future.

He doesn’t know where they’ll be in a few months’ time when they both finish high school, but Kageyama doesn’t question one part of it. This time, he’ll do his best to do it right.

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact: Beethoven's 9th Symphony is a Big Deal for Japanese New Year celebrations, hence the title.


End file.
